Epistles from the Road--Toronto
No readings today, no events, just my boy and me. So what do my boy and I do when we're alone in a city worth loving (see similar post below)? Walk forever, naturally. East and south this time, collecting stories as we went. The Mad Cows of Osgood Hall, Toronto? That's some funky justice-system issues you've got. Then there's the Grand Hall, or whatever you call it, in the Hockey Hall of Fame, where you keep that thing. That Cup thing? I've seen a room like that once before. Napoleon buried himself in it.
Oh, the Canadian humility.
Then to the First Post Office (which was fantastic), to St. Lawrence Market for "Peameal Bacon" (which you're really going to have to explain to us, because there were handmade wild cherry perogies and gorgeous Indian stews bubbling right nearby, and yet we honored your wishes, got the sandwich). Gregg Hirshberg, this one's for you, because I'm not sure it's possible to get a lunch that is more completely and definitively meat-on-bread. Simon Stranzas, you were so right.
Then all the way east to the Distillery District, where that chocolate shop is, and that's more like it: chocolate sour cherries, birch branches stuffed with cherries and hazelnuts, the Douglas Fir truffle. Plus, those are some seriously atmospheric streets. Good feet-on-cobblestones sound all around. Some subtle, lovely art in the galleries.
Then all along the waterfront (at least, we hear there's waterfront; this was more constructionfront), staring at the architecture, which is remarkable everywhere here, reminds me of Prague, so many styles and eras tumbled together. Glass sail building flying above 170 year-old stone cathedral, etc. Sid wanted to check out the aquarium, so that's where we went, and that's one fine aquarium. Communed with the octopi, marveled at the Goliath Grouper
(and the little tidbit on the sign about the Goliath's ability to unleash a sound from its bladder that can be felt miles away to terrify potential predators, prompting Sid to rename the fish Grampy--sorry, Jerry Hirshberg, but he's a perceptive kid, and he calls 'em like he smells 'em), stared up at the sawfish in the towering tanks over the tunnel.
Then we were going to go back to our little room, exhausted. But the Blue Jays were playing. So we went there instead.
Not the most restful possible break-day before the last events of the tour. Just the best possible.
Oh, the Canadian humility.
Then to the First Post Office (which was fantastic), to St. Lawrence Market for "Peameal Bacon" (which you're really going to have to explain to us, because there were handmade wild cherry perogies and gorgeous Indian stews bubbling right nearby, and yet we honored your wishes, got the sandwich). Gregg Hirshberg, this one's for you, because I'm not sure it's possible to get a lunch that is more completely and definitively meat-on-bread. Simon Stranzas, you were so right.
Then all the way east to the Distillery District, where that chocolate shop is, and that's more like it: chocolate sour cherries, birch branches stuffed with cherries and hazelnuts, the Douglas Fir truffle. Plus, those are some seriously atmospheric streets. Good feet-on-cobblestones sound all around. Some subtle, lovely art in the galleries.
Then all along the waterfront (at least, we hear there's waterfront; this was more constructionfront), staring at the architecture, which is remarkable everywhere here, reminds me of Prague, so many styles and eras tumbled together. Glass sail building flying above 170 year-old stone cathedral, etc. Sid wanted to check out the aquarium, so that's where we went, and that's one fine aquarium. Communed with the octopi, marveled at the Goliath Grouper
(and the little tidbit on the sign about the Goliath's ability to unleash a sound from its bladder that can be felt miles away to terrify potential predators, prompting Sid to rename the fish Grampy--sorry, Jerry Hirshberg, but he's a perceptive kid, and he calls 'em like he smells 'em), stared up at the sawfish in the towering tanks over the tunnel.
Then we were going to go back to our little room, exhausted. But the Blue Jays were playing. So we went there instead.
Not the most restful possible break-day before the last events of the tour. Just the best possible.
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